


Looking Glass - (DISCONTINUED)

by Pence (orphan_account)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/F, Fae & Fairies, Goblins, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Relationship Status: It's Complicated, Sequel to Familiar, Soulmates, Warlocks, Werewolves, Witches, supernatural detectives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 21:13:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17926466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Pence
Summary: DISCONTINUEDThis was previously intended to be the sequel to 'Familiar'. This version of the sequel has been discontinued. Please see 'Corpse Flower' for the new version.More details can be found on 4th chapter. This work will be deleted eventually.





	1. Chapter 1

 

_“Hank.”_

 

The soft, tentative touch that landed on his bicep felt like a whisper against the torrent of his thoughts. The seat of his pants was damp against the cold stone stoop he’d sat upon some time ago, losing himself to a paranoid mind and echoed memories.

A thigh brushed his own as a faceless man sat to his side, leaning their weight into his shoulder in a silent offering of support. Words were spoken--lost to the buzzing, frantic thump of his heart as he focused on the empty valleys of the stranger’s face. Pale sockets dipped into the soft flesh, smooth where eyes were lacking. A voice whispering spectrally, comfortingly from where a mouth might have been.

He was losing himself. Falling.

Comforted by a monster.

 

_“Hank.”_

 

Turning away from the incomplete man, the Lieutenant leaned down and pressed his face into his hands. The heels of his palms dug sharply against his lids as his mind returned to that dark, horrible place he thought he’d made progress in escaping.

“He was ten,” The man whispered hoarsely to the shoulder against his own, voice muffled as he hid behind his hands. “And those blood-drinking cocksuckers used him anyway.”

 

_“Hank.”_

 

His eyes burned with unshed tears as he allowed his hands to drop between his knees, staring wildly down at the wet, cracked pavement of the cement stairway. The wax man’s touch returned once more and caressed a gently thumb across his cheekbone.

The Lieutenant allowed those fingers to grasp his chin, forcing him to look once more into the stranger’s face. Soft freckles he hadn’t noticed danced across a pale nose; a pair of thin, pink lips smiled softly at him. Sadly.

“Hank.”

“I can’t do this,” He whispered, mapping out the warm freckles with a traveler’s knowledge, eyes red-rimmed and tired. “I can’t do this, Connor.”

Dark eyes sparkled with sad affection as the stranger--as Connor smiled, guiding the man with a gentle tug into his arms. Hank’s facial hair tickled his neck as he buried himself into the smaller man’s shoulder, silent despite the soft, occasional quiver of his shoulders. Black nails scraped gently across the Lieutenant’s scalp as long fingers brushed through his hair.

Connor let out a soft sigh as he glanced up to the windows of the row house they sat before, bubbled in the precious silence despite the activity happening within. Bright, industrial lights had been set up to better illuminate the crime scene as forensics did an initial scan.

 

Three bodies had been reported to the precinct.

Four awaited the cavalry when Connor had phoned for backup.

“I’m sorry Hank,” Connor whispered into the shell of his ear, closing his eyes as the Lieutenant’s weight leaned more into him. “I had no other choice.”

 

Walking into the apartment a few hours ago had been like passing through a fog of rot and decay. Half-eaten food and broken plates littered the floor around a small dinner table; rotting, gray, crusted with age.

A family lay in the remnants of the otherwise cozy room, curled around door frames and over blood-stained furniture. The decaying corpse of a woman, a mother, curled around the small body of a toddler--festering bullet holes littered down her spine.

A man, a father, was thrown across the back of a loveseat, peppered similarly down his chest; his throat torn away below a frozen, dead scream.

A baby, cradled within his mother’s arms, lay silent and asleep in death; a single bullet through the soft bone of its forehead.

All frozen in their final moments of escape, of fight, of life. Shot down before having even a remote chance of making it to the door.

 

And the boy...

 

“No.” A stuttered sigh kissed along the warlock’s jaw, voice mingling with the slick churning of wheels on the wet neighborhood street.

 

The son, the child, sat at the kitchen table and stared blankly into space. Long dried blood coated the hands in his lap, fingers curled loosely around the gun brushing his knee. Despite Connor’s hushed warnings, the Lieutenant had approached with gentle steps around the twisted form the mother, masking distress with a soft smile.

No reaction stirred in the child at the man’s voice.

 

“No,” Hank whispered again, pulling away from Connor’s embrace to stare once more at the hands in his lap. Blood matted the side of his beard; coat collar hiding away the flesh that had been ripped from his neck--

 

\--from the blunt teeth of the child that had stirred at the soft, tentative touch to his shoulder. Connor moved quickly as the boy launched from his seat and tore into the Lieutenant’s throat, gun clattering to the floor at the sudden attack.

Power coiled around his fingers as he ran, building in the center of his outstretched palm. As a fresh wave of blood bubbled past the child’s lip, immobile despite the Lieutenant's best efforts to shrug him off, panic flared in Connor’s chest.

With a shout, the warlock threw his will forward and aimed the spectral energy towards the child’s center mass. Invisible force tore the boy away from his partner and across the room. A weak cry of pain met the hard, vicious snap of bone against the wall before the body hit the floor in a crumpled heap.

 

“There is always a choice, Connor.”

The warlock turned to join Hank in his staring contest with the ground, swallowing against the lump in his throat. The Lieutenant’s shoulder touched to his own as he closed his eyes, attempting to quiet the frantic buzzing of his mind.

 

To wipe the image of the thrall’s twisted neck from coloring his thoughts.

Erase the fear that existed in the child’s frozen face as he took his final breaths.

 

  
_“There’s always a choice.”_

 

\-----

 

“Seriously? My fucking cereal?”

Irritation burned through the detective as he stared down at the powdered remains of what had once been a full box of Frosted Flakes. Perhaps irrational, but the hunger churning his gut forced hot-blooded rage to further color his cheeks.

The man strewn across his sofa watched the meltdown impassively, video game controller hanging loosely in his hands as Gavin stood half-dressed in the doorway.

“I was hungry,” Came a mumbled excuse, brows rising as a cartoon orange tiger was waved frantically in the air.

“You’re fucking made of money, Manfred!” Gavin snarled, going so far as to throwing the empty box as the lump on my couch. “You can’t buy your own goddamn food?”

“Aren’t you the one who pushed for ‘Police Protection’ while y’all looked for the guy who killed my dad?” Leo countered, tossing the empty box from his lap after a harmless cardboard stabbing to the gut.

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect you on my goddamn doorstep,” The detective grumbled, reaching up to knead his knuckles against the sockets of his eyes. His anger dissipated slightly as soft fur brushed his ankle.

Reaching down, Gavin scooped up the orange tabby before resuming his angry hovering--albeit slightly less intimidating as Butternut rubbed her head into his chin.

“Look just fuckin’ send me a list of what you want and I’ll pick it up for you, alright? Stop eating my fuckin’ shit,” The detective snarled. Pressing a kiss to the cat’s head, Gavin dropped her into the other man’s lap before stomping back to the kitchen.

He chose to ignore the ‘stingy bastard’ that followed him out of the room.

It had been three months now since Gavin Reed had miraculously returned to his normal life. Semi-normal, really. There didn’t exist many people who knew the circumstances of his disappearance, accepting at face value his varying excuse of ‘family emergency’ or ‘tropical vacation.’

Of course, he’d had to endure his fair share of ‘Friskies’ jokes from Anderson or the occasional cat toy showing up on his desk from a snickering Collins, but he was just happy for everything to be back to normal.

Semi-normal.

The tile of the kitchen was cold against his bare toes as Gavin crossed to the coffeemaker. A tired sigh passed over his lip as he leaned into the counter, elbows digging painfully against the hard edge as he listened to the maker’s gurgling lullaby.

An invisible chuckle brushed the lobe of his ear; amusement at his expense brushing comforting palms across his shoulder blades. Magic pressed along his spine as phantom limbs curled around his waist.

The countertop rattled as his phone vibrated nearby.

Gavin grumbled as he reached over and plucked up the device, unsurprised to see a familiar name popping up as a notification.

**[Sabrina]:** And what’s gotten you up on the wrong side of the bed?

Glaring down at the screen, the detective opened up his messages with the swipe of his thumb before pummelling back a reply.

**[Reed]:** didnt we talk bout boundaries w/ this voodoo shit ???

A reply appeared by the time his coffeemaker beeped, and a mug was retrieved from the cupboard. It wasn’t his favorite mug. Nah, Leo still hadn’t loaded the fucking dishwasher. Rich, spoonfed asshole.

**[Sabrina]:** I have been. You’re the one being rather ungracious with the connection.

A second reply quickly followed.

**[Sabrina]:** You always open the link when you’re pissed off.

Brows rising, Gavin placed down the carton of creamer he’d been dumping into the cup to respond.

**[Reed]:** im always pissed

**[Sabrina]:** I haven’t slept in weeks.

Gavin snorted as a phantom, baritone chuckle caressed his cheek like the soft brush of knuckles, scooping up his mug as he retreated towards the bathroom in the rear of the apartment.

**[Reed]:** fck u

Another kiss of amusement pressed to the back of his neck as his mug was placed to the counter with a gentle click.

**[Reed]:** leo keeps eating my food

**[Sabrina]:** :O The criminal...

**[Sabrina]:** Surely as a detective, you’ve got wits enough to properly hide your cheerios.

Gavin snorted as he started the hot water in his shower. Placing the phone on the counter near his mug, the detective pulled his shirt over his head as warm steam began to fill the small room. Tugging the collar over his head, he made to turn for the show when the stormy grey of his eyes met with icy blue in the fogging mirror.

“What the fu--”  
“Fascinating,” Nines hummed, leaning into the mirror with raised brows. The foyer of his home stood in dark, imposing wood behind him. “If you wanted a proper chat you could have just called, Gavin.”

“Fuck you, pervert!” Gavin snapped, cheeks hot with embarrassment as he pressed his shirt to his chest, scandalized. “Fuckin’ witch motherfu--”

The detective grew quiet as Nines chuckled, pressing his palm to the glass to clear away some of the fog building along the corners of Gavin’s mirror. “This sort of trick is worth exploring. Normally communications of this nature take an enchantment or ritual to activate.”

“So what fuckin’ gives? Why now?” Gavin asked through gritted teeth, stepping closer to the mirror to better address the curious witch.

Nines’ wandering gaze returned to Gavin’s, a soft smirk pulling on his lips. “Perhaps you just missed my face.”

Gavin snorted. “Perhaps you just missed my tits,” He grumbled, reaching over to wipe further fog from the mirror as the shower continued to run.

“It has been a few months since I last saw the boys,” Nines sighed, a dramatic, wistful sarcasm dripping from his voice. If Gavin flushed more when the witch offered him a wink, it was merely the warmth of the steam.

“Where’re you heading? Thought you hated playing outside,” Gavin asked against the rim of his mug, steering the subject away from his chest for his own sanity. “Late for the latest human sacrifice? Satanic ritual?”

Nines brows rose in surprise as he tugged his coat on the rest of the way. “I’m on my way to pick you up.”

Choking on his coffee, the detective turned wide eyes to the equally confused witch.

“The fuck? Why the hell would yo--”

“Ah, you weren’t informed,” Nines hummed, long fingers buttoning the front of his coat. “Connor contacted me last night. Lieutenant Anderson will be hiring my services as a consultant for a few weeks.”

Uh, okay. That made… some sort of sense but...“But, why are you--”

“I miss you.”

Gavin’s mouth shut quickly at the sober admission of the blue-eyed witch, features disappearing as the fog continued to gather. He reached out and cleared the fog away once more, blushing at the small appreciative smile that greeted him on the other end.

“I think I grew rather accustomed to having someone around my home,” The witch hummed, pushing back the coif of his hair with dark nails. “Maybe I should consider getting a cat.”

“You’d make a terrible pet owner,” Gavin teased half-hearted, glancing down to the dark brand against the back of his hand as the mug was taken up by shaking fingers. Stormy gray traced all nine points of the star as he attempted to collect himself. “You offered really shitty cat food and locked me in a cupboard. Not the signs of a great cat mom.”

“Mm, perhaps you’re right,” Nines hummed, disappearing out of the mirror’s frame as his keys were collected from a nearby bowl. Soft jingling was muffled as they were shoved into his pocket. “I guess I’ll just need to settle for you. Please be ready in twenty minutes. I’d rather not be late for my first day on the job.”

Gavin scoffed irritably, glancing up at the foggy mirror once more. “Fuck you! I never agreed to--”

The distorted, blurry image of himself stared back. Nines was gone, aside from a small heart drawn in the corner of the frame.

 

“Fuckin’ witch.”

 

\-----

  
If the speed at which Gavin had gotten ready that morning was ever put into question, he’d go to the grave before ever admitting it was due to the witch waiting outside. Butterbutt followed curiously on the detective’s heel as he raced through his usual routine--semi-normal assuming double guessing today’s shirt counting as a change of pace.

Shoving his arms through his jacket, Gavin raced into the kitchen to fill his travel mug, listening to the sound of gunfire erupting from his living room.

“I’m goin’ now, Manfred! Call me if there is an emergency. Don’t mess with Connor’s wards. And don’t touch my fuckin’ food!” The detective called, poking his head into the living room with a pointed glare.

He was met with an eye roll and flip of the bird, before Leo’s attention returned mostly to the game.

“Have a good day, prick.”

“Right back at ya, bitch.”

An invisible hand gave the back of Gavin’s ass a firm, open-palmed smack as he turned to leave. The detective wasn’t blind to the smirk that pulled onto Leo’s face, eyes remaining on the screen.

Fucking magic users.

As he made for the door, Gavin paused and decided to take the only revenge he could conceive in short notice. By the time he made it down to Nines’ waiting car a few minutes later, Gavin ducked in with a box of Lucky Charms nestled under his arm.

Turning to meet the raised brow of the witch, the detective offered a small shrug.

“Call it insurance,” Gavin muttered, tucking the box behind his seat before pulling on his seatbelt.

“When suggested hiding your food, I was not implying you hide them within my vehicle,” Nines hummed, gaze lingering a moment too long on the other man before turning back toward the road. “You really shouldn’t be eating those sugary cereals anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let's just get a move on, prick,” Gavin huffed, crossing his arms across his chest as the car was shifted into gear.

As they drove in silence, Gavin reached up and scratched idly at the scar across his nose.

“....I missed you too, by the way.”

“Oh, I know,” Nines hummed, meeting Gavin’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “You talk in your sleep. I’ll admit it’s rather startling to wake up with a ghostly voice moaning your name against your e--”

“Nevermind,” Gavin interrupted, crossing his arms tighter across his breasts. “I hope you get burned at the stake.”

Nines snorted, eyes twinkling with amused affection as he watched Gavin fight the smile battling his self-control.

 

He lost.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat shorter chapter. We'll be getting more heavily into the plot next chapter.

 

Nines had expected many things when entering the Detroit Police Department.

He had been correct in his assumption of an overall human staff, blind to the undercurrent of magic that existed beneath the city. With a vast majority of the population living within an ignorant, human bubble, it wasn’t surprising to find that more considerable attention was paid to mortal crimes.

He’d also expected that the Special Investigations unit that had enlisted his services would be incredibly understaffed, yet diverse. A goblin called out to Gavin as they entered the central hub of the office, raising a colorful mug in cheeky greeting. A vampire woman was snoozing at his detective’s desk as Nines followed on his heel, legs propped up on paperwork as she snoozed beneath her hat.

A werewolf, a goblin, a vampire, a fae. Odd, but expected.

What he wasn’t expecting was to have a body thrown against his own in an abrupt hug, yanking him down the uncomfortable hair of an inch.

“I didn’t think you’d come in person!” Connor exclaimed far too close to his brother’s ear as he gave him a friendly squeeze. “I knew you’d accepted our offer but I was half worried I’d need to drag you out myself.”

“I’m not that much of a recluse,” Nines muttered into his brother’s shoulder, blushing softly at the overt, public display of affection. Pulling back from Connor’s crushing hug, the witch glanced towards Gavin as he knocked the woman’s legs from his desk with a huff.

“Chen, go the fuck home.”

“It’s too sunny,” The vampire complained, pushing her hat back onto her head to reveal a pair of dark shades unsuitable for the indoors. “And I miss your stupid, ugly face. Can you blame me?”

Sitting against the edge of his own desk, Gavin crossed his arms across his chest and let out a huff of irritation. Neither Nines nor Chen appeared to be fooled by his heated glare; understanding long formed through years of friendly banter or the whisper of affection that snickered within a spiraling, spectral bond.

The attention of the dark-shaded vampire quickly turned towards the newcomer trapped in Connor's embrace. "No way," She breathed, kicking her legs off of the desk to jump to her feet. Ignoring the small protest from Gavin, the vampire bullied her way past the warlock and planted herself in front of the blue-eyed witch. "Your the hot magician that saved Gavin from himself."

Nines' brows rose, glancing over her shoulder to the detective as he let out an audible groan. "Oh my god."

"Hot magician?"

Nines tensed up as cold hands reached up to pinch at his cheeks, eyes widening as he stared down into the midnight shades sitting above a toothy grin. "You really are a tall drink of--"

"Tina, lay off the poor guy.”

Pulling back from the curious pokes and prods, the witch turned to face the friendly approach of a goblin--human by all appearances but unable to hide the sheen of glamour apparent to all magic users.

A hand was offered to Nines as the larger, older man came to a stop at the vampire’s side. “My name is Detective Ben Collins. This is Officer Tina Chen. We’re excited to finally meet you.”

After a brief hesitation, the witch offered a small nod and grasped the goblin’s hand. “The pleasure is mine. My name is Ric--”

“Oh we know who you are,” Tina interrupted, shoving her hands into the pockets of her uniform as she leaned forward. “Gavin talks enough about you as is but your brother is the real chatterbox.”

His brother blushed. “I don’t--”

“Oh shut up, Connor.” It was Gavin’s turn to interrupt, stalking over from his desk to pull the vampire back a step so Nines could breath. “Even before I met Nines you gushed constantly about him. I mean he is fucking powerful as hell, but he’s also a total fucking nerd like you.”

Nines brows rose. “A nerd?”

Gavin’s brows mirrored him. “You remember this morning, pervert?”

The witch smiled. “That was your doing, Reed.”

“What happened this morning?” Tina asked, grin growing wider as she leaned into the detective. “Don’t tell me you-- Oh Gavin, you unprofessional son of a--”

“Alright Chen,” Gavin exclaimed, knocking away the hand that had been creeping towards his cheek. “You’ve been up way past your bedtime. I’m gonna set you up in one of the cells to hibernate before we need you for the meeting. Lord knows what you might say if you stay up any longer.”

A groan of protest was pulled from the vampire as the detective’s arm curled around her waist. “Fine, fine. It was nice to meet you Nines. I’ll threaten you later about breaking my boy’s heart.”

Face growing red with embarrassment, Gavin gave her a soft tug and dragged her out of the central hub in breakneck speed. Angry whispering follow the pair, albeit twinged with affection as weights leaned together mid stride.

A hand grabbing his wrist drew the witch’s attention away from the bickering pair and back to his brother. “Come with me,” The warlock suggested with a soft tug, pulling Nines toward what appeared to be a small break room.

“Coffee?”

“I prefer tea, but I’m fine,” The witch muttered, stuffing his freehand hand into his pocket as he was wheeled towards a small, round table at the back. Humans idled nearest the coffee maker, uncaring for the pair as they waited upon the gurgling, overworked machine.

As he was slotted into the corner, Nines watched silently as Connor’s darker eyes scanned the area with the tick of a frown on his lips. Suspicious, nervous, paranoid.

“Does she know?”

Nines frowned as Connor’s gaze turned to meet his own, voice lowered to an intimate whisper. The hand remained upon his wrist, anchoring him to a conversation he didn’t want to have and holding him hostage for a reply.

“...It is not her business,” Came the witch’s careful response. Connor did not appear to be comforted by the answer.

“If your allegiance is still sworn to Amanda, it will always be her busi--”

“Connor. Brother. She will not find out,” Nines hissed, turning his wrist within his brother’s gentle hold, freeing himself. “She has yet to ask me of my visit to Elijah Kamski’s home or my… my relationship to Reed.”

“How can you be sure she doesn’t already know?”

“I would be dead, otherwise,” The witch muttered, unable to look at the lines of pain that tugged at his brother’s mouth, aging him.

A beat of silence stretched into a moment, neither brother finding it within themselves to breach the uncomfortable companionship as they leaned against the tabletop. It was only when a soft snort shook the elder of the pair that Nines looked up from his twisted fingers.

“So you and Gavin are…?”

A rosy flush washed across freckled cheeks as the witch grew flustered, staring at the warlock incredulously. “I’m sorry?”

“You said that Amanda does not know of your relationship with Reed. Are you officially togeth--?”

“I--That is nothing you should conc--” Mouth snapping shut, the witch’s face burned under the amused gaze of his brother. Because despite any suitable answer that might satisfy Connor’s inquiry--he didn’t know.

They were not romantically involved--aside from the few shared kisses and fleeting touches they had shared months ago. Whether spurned through pure emotion or the result of a new bonding, there had been no discussion on what to call the strange relationship the pair shared. They had kept in contact, albeit sporadically when the spectral link tethering witch to officer frayed under heavy emotion (usually Gavin’s).

But… Could he see a future with the grumpy detective? Was such a thing possible or safe for either man?

“I don’t know,” Nines breathed, shame washing away the flush of his cheeks as he glanced back up to his brother.

Pity glinted in Connor’s expression, mouth falling open to comment, to comfort-- but remained silent as his name was called from across the room. The pair broke their quiet staring contest as Anderson himself idled over holding a dog patterned coffee mug.

 

_‘You’re either a Dog Person or a total fucking weirdo.’_

 

Nines resisted the urge to laugh at the garish slogan as the Lieutenant came to a stop at Connor’s side. “We’re meeting in conference room B to go over the details of the case,” The man grumbled, setting the mug down as he turned his attention to the blue-eyed witch. "So, must be Connor’s brother Richard.”

Dark brows rose at the fairly obvious observation. “You truly are a detective.”

Hank let out a snort. “And as much of an asshole as well,” He chuckled, holding out an offered palm that Richard did not hesitate to shake. “I’m Lieutenant Anderson. While you work with us, you’ll be reporting to me. I’m assuming you’ve already negotiated hours and salary within your contract.”

“Actually,” Connor interrupted before either man could continue. “Part of my broth--Richard’s terms of employment is being paid in cash on a bi-weekly basis. We both feel it safer to keep his name out of our official records for the time being.”

Nines could offer only the smallest tip of his head as Hank glanced to his partner, brows furrowing in annoyance. “You’re implying we pay this guy under the table? When this was brought up, I was assuming legal employment. If your brother goes off the rails and blows up some perp, that could raise hell for--”

“Part of the agreement I made with Connor in aiding this case is sticking to the investigative side,” Nines hummed, folding his arms behind his back. “I am an expert in communing with spirits, charms, potions, what have you. Fortunately, I lack the prowess for destructive magic.”

“Fortunately?” Connor scoffed, bristling under his younger brothers smirk.

“I do not fight,” Nines clarified, turning his amused gaze from his disbelieving brother to the skeptical face of the Lieutenant. “I am a witch, not a warlock. We are researchers, herbalists, mediums, alchemists. It is outside of our nature to harm or kill.”

“And if some goblin pulls a gun on you?” Hank asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

A cold smile tugged onto the witch’s face, fingers tightening in their laced grasp behind his back. “Outside of our nature-- _but not forbidden_.”

A gruff laugh was pulled from the Lieutenant as he shook his head. Uncrossing his arms, Hank raised his hand to pat Connor’s shoulder. It quickly fell to the table to retake his cup. “Fine, fine. Fowler won’t be happy about this arrangement, but we’ve got bigger fish to fry. Finish up and go to the meeting room. Grab a coffee or whatever beforehand. It’s gonna be a long one.”

Nines offered a nod as the Lieutenant turned and headed for the door, unblind to the soft lines that pulled at the corner of his brother’s brow.

“Are you alright, Connor?”

Blinking out of his trance on Hank’s back, the warlock turned back to Nines and forced a smile on his face. “Of course. I’m… I’m glad you’re here to help. This has been a hard case on all of us.”

Nines’ frown quickly smothered the grin off of Connor’s face. “And the Lieutenant?”

“...He is upset with me,” Connor admitted, lips pressing into a line. “Rightfully so. I… I’ll meet you at the meeting, alright?”

“Connor…”

With a small wave, the warlock was quick to turn on his heel and follow in the direction the Lieutenant had headed. A nervousness brewed in the witch’s gut as he watched the squared shoulders of his brother’s retreating form, standing frozen to the table in the back of the breakroom.

A smooth, spectral hand smoothed across Nines shoulders as Gavin poked his head into the entryway after a moment’s pause, eyes settling on the witch.

_‘You alright?’_

Closing his eyes, Nines savored the power that whispered comforting, sweet nothings against his ear; the scent of honeysuckle accompanying the volatile fae magic they now both shared. Amid the low hum of morning chatter and the continued gurgle of the coffeemaker centered among the crowd, the squeak of steps sounded over the linoleum.

A hand touching his elbow brought him out of his comfortable trance, cold blue opening to glance down to the concerned dimple marring the edge of the detective’s frown.

“Would you like to have dinner with me, Gavin?”

Brows raising, Gavin removed his hand from Nines’ arm and stuffed them into the pockets of his jacket.

“Are you asking me on a date?” He asked, tone feigning disbelief while failing to mask underlying amusement.

Affection fluttered between their shared bond at the soft twitch of Nines’ lips. “I believe I am.”

“Well,” Gavin hummed, leaning into the table as he smirked up to the witch. “Let’s talk about it after we go over the case. You might not like me as much after we’ve stared at corpses for a few hours.”

With a jerk of his head, Gavin ushered him towards the door in a casual stride, pausing only a moment for the witch to join him elbow to elbow.

“I feel it’s necessary to remind you that you were a cat when we first met,” Nines drawled, finding incredible comfort in the easy banter they had settled into. “And yet here I am still willing to give you a shot.”

“I mean we all have our fetishes,” Gavin hummed, bumping discreetly into the witch as they headed down the hall towards a series of doors. “Despite what you might believe, I ain’t hiding a tail in my pants. If you’re into humans--”

“Technically you are still a cat,” Nines interrupted as they came to a stop in front of the meeting room, turning to face the detective with a raised brow.

Gavin’s pause was a lot more abrupt, turning wide eyes up to the witch. “Excuse me?”

“I thought you knew,” Nines hummed, crossing his arms behind his back. “The magic you gained after accepting the bond was glamour enough to force your form into that of your previous self. You are still biologically and physically a fel--”

“That was a bandaid fix?!” The detective exclaimed, irritation rolling off the man in rough waves. “I thought--”

Nines smirked at the flush that had built in the detective’s cheeks. “It’s still fixable. Perhaps we can discuss the details over din--”

Realization dawned in Gavin’s face before a punch blossomed sweet pain the witch’s arm. “You’re fucking with me, you sparkle-fingered motherfucker.”

The witch’s smirk pulled into a small smile as the detective’s face grew redder, soft laughter shaking his shoulders as Gavin shoved past him and opened the door to the meeting room.

Turning back to Nines, the detective glowered. “Well congratulations, you just lost your chance to get with this,” He snapped, motioning up and down to his entire form; still unable to mask the baseline amusement trapped beneath his glare.

Nines let out a soft sigh, head tilting to the side. “To be expected really,” He hummed, taking the final few steps to join the detective in the doorway. Leaning down, the witch smirked as their close proximity raked a shutter up Gavin’s spine. “I am sort of a _pussy_ man myself.”

Whether for the absurd statement or the brush of lips against his ear, Gavin let out a startled bark of laughter as, glued to the doorway as Nines proceeded inside.

_‘Fucking asshole. You’re buying me lunch.’_

_‘Of course.’_

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked what you read, please consider dropping a Kudos and/or Comment below!
> 
> Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this out. I'm nearing the end of Daydreamer and I started a Convin fic that have eaten my heart + attention. But don't worry! I haven't forgotten about this! (Sorry Hank. I'll update your story one of these days...)

 

 

The briefing room had a far more somber atmosphere when compared to the intimate conversation they had just abandoned. Perhaps it was due to the lethargic team of supernaturals huddled at the front of the room, fingers, and claws curled around cups of coffee.

Or, the more likely explanation, was the explicit photographs of corpses littering the bulletin board at the front.

Connor stood nearest Lieutenant Anderson as Nines entered, pausing in his step as he found himself uncertain in how to proceed. While the witch had acted as a contractor on many occasions in the past (legal and otherwise), no amount of research into police work could prepare him for the grotesque reality of which he toed.

Gavin paused at his side, glancing back to the witch with the questioning quirk of his brow. Following Nines’ gaze, a line pulled at the corner of his frown.

“It looks worse than it is,” The detective murmured, shoving his hands into his pockets as he waited idly. “While I’m still unsure how you're supposed to help us out on this case, Connor probably has his reasons for hiring you. Just sit in and listen. I’ll be here the entire time.”

The urge to retort sarcastically--to resume that careful, playful conversation they had abandoned in the hall--was tempting. Comforting. But he was no fool; unblind to the dark, morbid realities that came with magic and power.

There was no burying his head in the sand.

“I’m fine,” Nines assured, offering the watchful detective the tip of his head before he proceeded to the front of the room.

Connor offered the smallest smile to his brother upon his arrival, breaking his conversation with a nod to the Lieutenant. “I wanted to debrief you sooner, but I’m afraid much of this information is classified due to… well…”

“You were worried about the brewing war. About Amanda,” Nines finished for him, taking a seat at one of the front tables, certainty heavy in his voice. “Do you believe me that careless to allow my mistress to trespass all of my secrets?”

“Of course not,” Connor hummed, staring down his nose at his little brother. “But I also know the power of her bond. Have you ever disobeyed her orders, Richard?”

“Why did you hire me if you find my allegiance questionable?” Nines asked without answering Connor’s initial question. “Am I here to help or are you attempting to babysit me?”

Connor frowned, lips pressing into a thin line as he too refused to answer Nines’ question. The smallest of sighs passed over the warlock’s lips before turning away, attention focusing on the Lieutenant who had repositioned himself in front of the evidence board.

“Shall we get started?”

“How long is this gonna take?” Tina asked from the back of the room, legs throw up on Gavin’s lap as she lounged back. The sunglasses she had previously been wearing were pushed up into her dark hair, exhaustion deeply drawn into her pallid complexion. “Some of us are well past our bedtimes.”

Hank rolled his eyes, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket as he glared at the vampire. “Your presence isn’t necessary, Officer Ch--”

“I would say it is,” Tina interrupted, raising her hand as she failed to stifle a yawn. “Chris is off on paternity leave, and I don’t trust any of ya’ll to get me the good deets before my patrol. What if I stumble across Zlatko myself? Am I expected to take him down on my lonesome?”

“I’d demand you report the sighting without engagement,” Hank huffed, shaking his head as he turned back to the board. “The fucker’s the leader of a damn coven. I don’t expect you to run in guns blazing while you’re on patrol.”

Tina snorted, glancing to an amused Gavin at her side. “But, like, what if we requested crossbows for our department. Like full on vampire killing shit. Silver crosses and garlic spray, y'know?”

“Does that shit work on you?” The fae detective asked with a huff of laughter, patting the amused vampire’s knee.

“Nah,” Tina grinned. “But I’d look so fucking cool lugging around a damn cros--”

“No crossbows,” Hank said with a huff, shooting a glare at Detective Collins’ snicker from the back of the room. “Are there any other stupid questions ya’ll wanna get out of your system or can we get sta--”

“I think we need team uniforms,” Gavin interrupted, leaning back in his seat, arms folded across his chest. “I’m thinking something X-Men style. Spandex, knee-high boots, masks. Hell, maybe a collar for yo--”

Gavin went quiet as magic surged into him; sinking into his flesh like the chilling rush of a tidal wave. Stormy gray eyes flickered to the witch sitting at the front of the room, focusing on the square of broad shoulders and polite grasp of fingers upon the tabletop.

 

_‘Behave.’_

 

Connor glanced to Nines, unblind to the surge of magic that had transferred from his brother. If amusement lingered in the silent scolding, it quickly dwindled as the witch turned his attention back to a very exhausted, very irritated Anderson.

“I have read the files you provided me, Lieutenant, but I would appreciate a recap if you do not mind,” Nines requested, smirking politely as a responding wave of magic rushed back along the bond.

 

_‘Asshole.’_

_'Child.'_

 

Hank’s lips pressed into a thin line, remaining silent as he sized the man up. It did not matter if the Lieutenant questioned his capability or trustworthiness. So long as a witch’s contract was signed, whether for the brewing of a potion or acting as a consultant to an understaffed precinct, he always finished his missions.

“Right,” Hank murmured, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he glanced back to the board. “I’m sure you’re aware of the Andronikov coven.”

“I am acquainted,” Nines confirmed with a tip of his head. “Their presence has existed in the midwestern region for nearly four centuries, centralized in Michigan for the past two. A transfer of leadership occurred nearly two years ago when the previous coven leader died due to mysterious circumstances.”

“He was slain,” Connor murmured, watch his brother curiously. “By Zlatko himself.”

“Speculation,” The witch replied, turning to glance to his brother. “The Andronikov coven has never held stable, peaceful relations with those in the supernatural community. It was with carefully written treaties and amendments that Archmage Manfred allowed their presence to remain within Detroit. I imagine the legality of their existence extends to every organized supernatural group within this region.”

“Oh, it’s much harsher on predators,” Tina chimed in, patting Gavin’s shoulder as she got to her feet. The woman squinted wearily as she passed beneath one of the few fluorescents that remained active in the room, flicking her shades back down onto her nose. “Vampires, werewolves, any mythical creature that haunt human fables. We’re goddamn legal nightmares.”

Turning in his seat, Nines frowned as the weight of the vampire dropped into the chair at his side. “I don’t underst--”

“You ever hear of Jericho?” Tina asked, placing her elbow on the tabletop, resting her chin upon her palm.

“It’s a sanctuary for the newly transformed,” Nines frowned, brows knitting.

“It’s a loophole,” Tina smiled, fangs dull in the low lighting of the briefing room. “A rebellion against the strict laws of the Archmage’s council and the rehabilitation of the newly transformed. It was started by a group of disgruntled werewolves--sick of the bureaucratic regulations they were forced to abide by--and really kicked off when the Archmage’s own son assumed leadership.”

“Markus,” Nines murmured, turning away as Tina nodded.

“What’s funny is no one ever heard of the guy before he arrived at Jericho. Everyone knew about Leo Manfred, the progeny of the late, great Carl Manfred. But Markus? Nothing. Speculation has it that Markus is the result of an affair that Carl had way back when, but seeing as he was openly gay, others just assumed adoption.”

“Why is Jericho important?” Nines asked, glancing up as Connor walked to the front of the room.

“Because they have allied themselves with our department in bringing down the Andronikov coven once-and-for-all,” Connor murmured, coming to a stop at the front of the board, back to the room. “The coven’s activity has doubled since the death of Carl Manfred, and their focus has shifted from human civilians to members of the supernatural community.”

“It’s incredibly difficult to enthrall a supernatural,” Nines murmured knowingly, meeting his brother’s eye as he turned back to the front. “What are they--”

“They are looking for something,” Connor frowned, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stared unwaveringly at his brother. “And given that they have been targeting ranking members of Jericho, we believe they are actively seeking someone.”

Irritation prickled across the back of Nines’ neck as he stared his brother down; an unspoken suspicion flickering to life in his chest and filling his lungs with smoke. The concerned touch of magic from Detective Reed went ignored as he waited for his brother to continue, unwilling to open his mouth in fear of breathing fire.

Connor folds his arms behind his back, unbothered by the hot fury that colors his brother’s cheeks. “We believe that Zlatko is attempting to locate and eliminate all competition that might assume position of the next Archmage. There are not many names that have been proposed for election, but those that have been spoken are at risk. Jericho has already ensured the protection of Markus Manfred.”

“Carl’s firstborn Leo Manfred has also been proposed for election,” Gavin says from Nines’ side, having idled to the front of the room curiously. Either due to the witch’s sudden mood change or the topic at hand, it went unspoken as he perched himself on the edge of the table. “Leo refused Jericho assistance and is currently under DPD protection. Primarily my apartment on a short fucking leash.”

“He eat your cereal again?” Tina asked with a small grin, snickering as Gavin’s scoff came out in a hot huff.

“Motherfucker left the milk out while I was working an overnight. Tried to blame that shit on me when I stumbled in fourteen hours later. Silver-spooned prick.”

Nines frowned, breaking his standoff with Connor as he glanced up to Gavin. “I assume your apartment has been properly warded. Are you sure that Manfred--” You. “--are safe there?”

“Connor already gave it the once over and a smattering of wards,” The detective replied, turning from his quiet banter with Officer Chen to address the witch. “Plus my own magic pretty much dilutes anything that Leo can produce. If anyone stumbles into the area, they’ll just pick up on me. And if they come looking for trouble, Connor will fry them.”

“Not how it works, Gavin,” Connor murmured, rolling his eyes as the detective gives a short shrug.

“Connor.”

The warlock bristles at his name, turning his dark eyes once more to the cold gaze of his brother.

“Why did you hire me?”

“Richard--”

“You have already expressed that you have the allegiance of Jericho and understand the current motives of the Andronikov coven,” The witch murmured, voice carrying slowly and darkly across the few feet and table that separated them. “You’ve ensured the safety of the primary targets, know the current location of your prime suspect, and have far more capable magics in taking them down.

So, I repeat. Why did you hire me?”

Shame existed in the lines of Connor’s expression, lips pressed together as if smothering the ugly truth. Expressed that Nines’ presence was a tool to dispose of when the task was done--something already dirtied beyond recognition.

“Amanda,” Connor murmured, arms dropping to his sides as he was the first to break the electric stare, gaze flickering to the ground. “We have reason to believe that Zlatko is under her employment.”

“And you wanted me to play as spy. To work as your informant,” Nines seethed, struggling to contain the power that licked his knuckles. That begged for retaliation and bloodshed. The witch clawed the edge of the table to compensate, knuckles pale as winter “Were you planning on requesting this of me today or simply hope that I was foolish enough to disclose all of my mistress’ secr--”

“Richard, please. Just liste--”

Nines might have continued to yell--grind his brother into the earth with every archaic spell he knew by memory--had a hand not descended upon his own. The witch’s chin jerked as he glared up at Gavin, fury wavering as the half-fae dared stare down at him with concern.

“It was my idea,” Gavin murmured bravely, shame sprinkling his tone. “...Partially. When we discovered that Amanda may have employed the coven to boost her hold over the city, I suggested the idea of enlisting your help. I didn’t think that-- I mean… You’re the closest person to Amanda, and I thought--”

“You thought you’d ask me to betray my mistress, my mother, for you,” Nine hissed, drawing his hand away from Gavin’s touch. The tug of hurt in his gut went easily ignored as the fire of his irritation drowned their bond. “We are familiars, Gavin. We are not lovers. We are not friends. Simply two bonded souls with a shared magic. You ask too much of me.”

The detective’s lips fell into a grim line, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. The previous remorse, previous pity, melted away as irritation colored scarred cheeks. “Fuck you, Richard.”

“You’re in no position to be angr--”

“No really, Nines. Go fuck off back to your fucking mother,” Gavin hissed, hopping off the edge of the table to better face the irritated witch. “I suggested the idea of asking for your help because I thought you were better than that fucking bitch. Thought you’d care that innocent people are dying because she wants a fancy title. I should have known you’d be too much of a coward to stand up for what was right.”

Magic rushed the witch’s senses as Gavin pressed into the bond; the musty smell of a Fall storm tickling his nose. _‘I thought I could trust you.’_

It was Nines turn to be floored, staring up at the detective as his anger began to deflate. The fury that pulled lines into his frown smoothed into the tender touches of hurt.

_‘I thought the same,’_ Nines urged back, unclenching his hands from the table as his eyes drop from the detective’s face.

“C’mon Tina. I’ll drive you home,” Gavin hissed through clenched teeth, boots letting out a muted squeal as he turned to storm from the room. The vampire sitting at Nines elbow hesitated before climbing to her feet, offering the witch a small ‘sorry’ as she followed Gavin out.

The room grew silent as only four remained, all at a loss in how to proceed whether due to the sheer awkwardness that had settled over the place or boiling, raging anger.

“....Lieutenant Anderson. Detective Collins. May I have the room? Connor asked softly, voice deflated as he stayed frozen where he stood. There came no protest as the two retreated as prompted, leaving the brothers to face one another in isolation.

Silence persisted as the two quietly watched one-another, neither man willing to speak first in fear of the sharp, poisonous words that promised to spill from their lips. Nines wanted to scream his frustration--to throw a spell or a punch into the remorseful frown that pulled at his brother’s mouth. That he had the nerve to act the victim of Nines’ anger when he was catalyst and creator.

“How could you ask this of me?” Nines whispered, watching as the detective’s posture deflated when the silence was shattered. “You know… You know more than anyone what such betrayal costs…”

“... You’re the best chance we have of keeping the city safe, Richard,” Connor murmured, hesitating as he stepped forward to stand closer to the other man. “You are her confidant and apprentice. If we just--”

“You are asking me to risk everything. My life, my work, those I care for… If she finds out--”

Nines went silent as he watched Connor round the table, sinking to his knees at his brother’s side. With shaking hands, the detective took the witch’s fingers into his own and squeezed gently, staring up at him; furious desperation coloring his cheeks.

“I would never gamble your life,” Connor hissed, teeth gritted together as old, buried anger resurfaced. “I have accepted your choice in remaining her apprentice, as vile of a taste as it leaves in my mouth. But know that I will burn her to the ground before I allow her to hurt you.”

Connor’s breath was shaky as he dropped his gaze to their hands, brows knitting in silent prayer as he continued. “I… I need your help, Richard. You’re the only one close enough who can keep us one step ahead. So that what the coven has done to the city-- _to Gavin_ \--is put a stop to once an for all. That we might promise Detroit a healthy future and avoid this war.”

Nines was silent as he stared down at the bowed head of his brother, lips pulled into a troubled line.

“...You’re selfish, Connor,” The witch murmured in the wake of the detective’s insistence of prosperity for the city. Preposterous. “This is another ploy in forcing me to leave Amanda’s employ. Do you truly take me for such a foo--”

Wetness painted Nines’ knuckles as Connor let out a wet laugh, suppressing a sob that set his shoulder’s quivering. Turning his chin up, the warlock detective offered a crooked smile as a tear rolled down his nose.

“I was hoping,” Connor whispered, brows furrowing as a fresh wave of tears followed his poor humor. The grasp on Nines’ hand tightened as they were lifted, knuckles pressed to his brother’s forehead as he hunched forward.

“You know she’s going to kill you eventually, Richard,” The detective murmured, tears dripping off his chin and soaking into the fabric of Nines’ dark slacks. “You’re the only family I have. I can’t let her hunger for power take you from me. I can’t. I won’t. I--”

Pulling his hands from Connor’s grasp, Nines let out a huff of air through his nose. “So selfish,” Nines gently mocked, lifting the warlock’s face with dark-nailed fingers and brushing a thumb across tearstained freckles. “Long-suffering fool of mortal wants and fears.”

Closing his eyes, Nines swallowed his anger and listened to the soft sniffles of his weeping brother, wet cheek pressed to his palm.

“Very well.”

Connor’s breathing hiccuped at Nines words. “What?”

“I will keep you informed on Amanda’s whereabouts and actions,” The witch muttered, brushing more tears from his brother’s cheeks. “I will not pry beyond my station to avoid her suspicion, and I do intend to remain within her employ for as long as I can. I am not a fool, brother. I know that I am no successor to her power.

But it is within your best interest that I remain at her side until the end. You know not what she asked of me when you abandoned her those years ago.”

Connor’s lips fell open to speak, nod forgotten as his chin was caught in the witch’s firm hold.

“And should I abandon her, I expect your cooperation in anything I ask,” Nine murmured darkly, glaring down at his brother. “Whatever I ask, you will do without question. That is my deal.”

“I accept,” Connor breathed without hesitation, leaning back as his face was released.

Nines sighed, dropping his hand to his lap as he watched his brother compose himself. Black nails dragged over the wetness of his slacks, curious if magic might be derived from a warlock’s tears.

Ever the scholar.

The silence that had settled over the pair was far more comfortable than it had been in the heated moment of Nines’ fury; a comfort the witch exploited as he extended his magic out into the precinct. The overall complex held the mundane, muddy energy that came with mortal beings--those who lacked power and influence over the natural magic of the world.

But the bond he shared with a singular detective shine like a beacon, leading him to the man tied to his soul.

Angry energy existed at the end of the tether; a natural, pure irritation that he had come to appreciate in the bristly detective.

 

_‘We need to talk, Gavin.’_

 

The bond pulled taut as a bowstring at his voice, hesitation and fury burning like wildfire in response to his request. His command.

Nines was not deemed worthy of a response.

“I should actually fill you in on the case,” Connor murmured, breaking his brother’s concentration as he climbed once more to his feet. “I warn you that Amanda has not hesitated in the actions she has taken to assume the Archmages power. It is… not pleasant.”

Folding his hands once more onto the table--dark nails scraping gently against his knuckles--day met night as Nines lift his chin to attend his brother’s gaze.

 

“We best begin.”

 

\-----

 

The heavy wood of the manor’s door groaned softly as it shut into its frame; imbued runes running the length of the house as protections rose at their master’s return.

The seed of worry lingered in Nines’ gut as he removed his jacket, hanging it upon an antique coat rack framing the corner of the entryway. Gavin had failed to return after leaving with the vampire, Officer Chen. While the witch was guilty of lashing out with an unhinged tongue, there existed no trepidation when suggesting a conversation.

Despite being bound body and soul to the fae detective, the boundaries of their relationship needed to be established. It took great restraint on the witch’s part not to jump Gavin’s very bones upon entering the precinct; the natural, feral reaction to such an intimate binding.

But consent was essential to Nines.

Was his attraction real or the reaction to combined magic?

How strange that the latter made him sad.

Letting out a soft huff, Nines retired to the kitchen and started the gas stove with the sharp snap of his fingers. Filling a kettle, the witch placed a copper pot to the flame before turning to face the counter.

A pair of golden eyes met his own.

“Good evening, Ambrosia,” Nines murmured, reaching forward to scratch beneath the midnight cat’s chin. A soft purr rumbled against his knuckles, moonlight eyes falling to half lids under his gentle attention.

The invasive wonder if Gavin might like his cat was quickly batted away, hand retreating to continue to fix the tea-set.

Two saucers, two teacups were placed upon a metal tray; sugar and cream set to the side. Softly shooing Amber away, Nines crossed to the shrieking pot and poured the boiling water into a china tea kettle; allowing the tea to brew as he took the tray up within his arms.

The cat followed at the witch’s heel as he made his way out of the kitchen, climbing the broad staircase with careful steps to avoid tripping over the feline.

Hesitation arrived as the witch toed the top of the landing eyes fixed upon the closed door of his study and the betrayal that existed beyond. The soft mew of the cat at his heel spurred the witch onward, fear swallowed as his patterned mask of impenetrability set his face to stone.

Magic surged and ushed the door open.

“Good evening, Richard.”

Nines let out the smallest of sighs as he crossed to the center of the room, setting the tray upon the polished wood of his coffee table.  
“Hello, Aman-- _Mistress_.”

A gentle smile pulled onto the woman’s face as the witch took a seat in the loveseat across from her, gown falling away as she crossed one leg over the other. Silence fell as Nines prepared his mistress’ cup, unwilling to look up at the eyes watching every flick of his wrist.

It was only as the saucer was set into her hands that the woman smile, leaning back in her seat.

“Thank you, Richard,” Amanda praised, voice warm despite the chill every word dragged up his spine.

“How was your first day at the precinct?”

Nines hesitated as he poured his own cup, icy eyes staring into the swirling amber of tea as it obscured lacy, intricate designs within the china.

“It went well, as expected.”

Amanda took a sip, watching him over the brim of her cup. “And do they suspect your true mission?”

“No.”

The woman smiled, setting her cup back to the saucer with a small click-clack.

“Excellent. Tell me everything.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked what you read, please consider leaving a comment and/or kudos below! Every little bit helps, even the smallest 'Cool, cool, cool'. 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me! Let me know what you thought!


	4. Update

Hi guys, this is going to be really short. I really don't like updating chapters for updates and I'd hoped I would never find myself in a position where I needed to do that. 

 

This is just to let you know that this story will be discontinued from this point on. I am so incredibly proud of the attention that Familiar received and the enthusiasm readers have shown me for this version of the sequel. It's extraordinary and humbling. However, I didn't like that version. It felt sort of empty and detached to me, without allowing the opportunity to expand the universe that I had built up in my head. 

 

This is not just Gavin and Nines' story but a whole bunch of characters. This version of the sequel will act as the platform that will allow me to explore other characters/creatures and progress the overarching plotline. 

 

I apologize to anyone I might have disappointed, but please go check out 'Corpse Flower', the new version of the sequel. I think it's a must stronger version of the sequel. 

 

**[Corpse Flower](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19963465) **

 

Again, I appreciate everyone's support and I apologize for this messy situation. This version of the sequel will be deleted in time. At the very least it will be removed from the series so as not to confuse anyone in the future. 

 

Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy Corpse Flower. 


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